Hadrian Peverell
by Salivour
Summary: Sick of how magic is being destroyed, Harry goes to Tom Riddle's time as Hadrian Peverell, to stand at his side as they revolutionise the wizarding world.
1. Chapter 1

Hadrian Peverell, formerly known as Harry James Potter, glided into his new dorm room.

Hadrian had the appearance of his fifteen year old self, with untidy black hair, round rimmed glasses and the distinctive lightning bolt scar on his forehead. His eyes were a bright green, swirling around his pupils. He looked fifteen, but was closer to a little under a century old.

After his three children had graduated from Hogwarts and work for the aurors had gradually slowed down, Harry had become restless. It was like an in-built reaction from his youth to always be in action. He became restless and withdrawn from his family, preferring his own company as he locked himself away in his room to pour over the various books he had acquired. He had a far more open mind about magic now, and many of them were Dark Arts books.

As he aged, Harry became more and more isolated, painfully aware of a tugging at his soul. After the piece of Voldemort's soul had been ripped from his, he had felt odd. After over sixteen years of being entwined, the souls had merged into one. In the process of ripping them apart, the tear had not been clean and had left wounds. Harry had wished more and more to be near the rest of his soul again.

It was odd to wish to be near the man who had repeatedly tried to kill him. But Harry realised that he had never properly met Voldemort as an adult at all. The brief meeting in the Chamber of Secrets and the constant whispering at his soul, told him far more about what the man was actually like. As time went on, Harry became aware of the issues plaguing the wizarding world. There was a constant terror of being found and hunted by muggles as more and more of them became aware and distrustful of magic through muggleborns. The purebloods were dying out, with incredibly few remaining. And with them, much of the ancient knowledge and traditions.

The ever increasing muggleborns forced their ideas and traditions onto wizards, any strong attempt of purebloods to resist this change was immediately labelled as dark. While Harry did not hate people, he did hate one culture being forced upon another.

Following Voldemort's defeat, the Ministry had cracked down on dark magic in an attempt to never have a repeat performance. Only select, approved spells were allowed to be used and taught. Any potions brewed had to be approved. Any rituals had to be approved and overseen by multiple moderating bodies. Any experimentation was frowned upon as dangerous. The restrictions only served to restrict magic herself.

Returning Voldemort to life was impossible, and Harry dismissed the notion anyway, aware that the man was unlikely to ever accept him on his side, much less as an equal. Harry had no wish to be a Dark Lord, or to lead from the front. Being a shadow behind the power, and trusted advisor was much more appealing. With that in mind, he had made the decision to return to the young Tom Riddle's time.

Using his connections in the Department of Mysteries, the complex magic was performed for him to accomplish this task. He knew some people in there who disagreed with the current system and were dark enough to not question his motives and lecture him. They had agreed to send him to the year 1940, two years before Tom Riddle would enter his fifth year in Hogwarts and when Harry planned to meet him.

From 1940 to 1942, Hadrian made his home on Cruor Island, just twelve miles north of Azkaban. He studied as much magic as he could, supplementing the knowledge from his previous life. He took a particular interest in dark magic. He studied with the some of the more sane inmates of Azkaban who taught him obscure branches of magic and improving his physical abilities. The dementors left these inmates alone to preserve their knowledge.

Through Hadrian, they sensed how magic had been eroded over time as they were timeless creatures. They allowed him entrance to Azkaban and withdrew their power around him. Slowly, Hadrian discovered that he had the ability to speak to a few of them, and enjoyed speaking to the creatures. They help him to overcome many of his reservations about so called dark creatures.

Eventually, the year 1942 rolled around. Hadrian had already sent a message to Headmaster Dippet to request a place at the school for his final two years. After several interviews, checks to his identity, tests to determine his knowledge and so forth, Hadrian Peverell was finally accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and sorted into Slytherin house for his fifth year.

Hadrian glided into the dorm room, late on the first of September, having spent the past week at Hogwarts to sort out the final paperwork. The Slytherin house valued privacy much more than Gryffindor, and each dorm housed two students. There were two four-poster beds on opposite ends of the room, dressed in deep greens and blacks. The room was square and quite cosy, dark woods on the floor with deep grey stone arching over the ceiling and walls. There were two walnut desks next to each bed as a study area. Hadrian liked the place immediately.

A boy of fifteen was lounging on one of the beds, a book in hand. He looked quite similar to Hadrian. Tall, with pale skin and black hair that fell in elegant waves around his handsome face. There was a power radiating off of him. Tom Riddle was frowning at Hadrian, with a curiosity in his expression.

"Who are you?"

Hadrian smiled lightly, over just a couple years of training in martial arts and years of Quiddith and auror training before that had left him with a light muscular physique and it spoke in his movements. He was polite towards Riddle, wanting this first meeting to go well.

"Hadrian Peverell. I just started here today. And the same to you?"

"Tom Riddle." He held out his hand to shake, which Hadrian took. As they shook, Hadrian was careful to keep a very tight rein on his magic. No need to alert Riddle to their connection quite yet.

"You said you just arrived?"

"Yes. I never received my Hogwarts letter." Hadrian shrugged, it was true in a way, since arriving, he had had no contact with the outside world. "I'm mainly self-taught although have a few tutors to help me along."

He shifted to place his trunk down and perched lightly at the end of his bed. Riddle shifted to a similar position to look at Hadrian. Hadrian could feel Riddle's suspicious gaze boring into him and knew he was about to be interrogated.

"You should have received a letter from one of the foreign schools."

"I live in Britain, though I probably live too far out to be reached by a simple owl. Not to mention the wards," he added as an afterthought.

Riddle frowned. "Where do you live, exactly?"

"A tiny island in the North Sea known as Cruor Island."

"Cruor seems familiar." Then Riddle's eyes widened in shock, "Azkaban. You live near Azakaban."

"My tutors reside there."

Riddles expression grew hungrier with the need to _know_ as he eyed Hadrian. Hadrian smiled, almost smirked.

"Your tutors are Azkaban inmates?"

"Yes."

"The dementors do not affect you?"

"No. I'm quite friendly with a few of them."

Tom gazed at the young man before him. For the first time, he became aware of the power radiating off of him. It caressed his own magic and felt oddly familiar. Even after barely a few minutes, he could tell that this was an extraordinary wizard. Tom couldn't help but want that power for himself.

**Notes:**

TMR: born 31/12/1926 – Hogwarts: 1937 to 1944 Fifth year: 1942


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** Why Hadrian Peverell? Well, Hadrian is a personal preference, I just like that name more. And Peverell is firstly something that Harry has a connection to and is similar enough to Potter. Also, the name Peverell has died out by this point, whereas the Potter name is alive and well, and I didn't want to put Harry in the position of anyone trying to figure out how he is related to his grandparents.

A reviewer pointed out that Tom should have started Hogwarts in 1938 and not 1937, my mistake for not taking into consideration where his birthday fell. A good eye! Though it doesn't really change anything in the story.

Also, thank you for the reviews. They are appreciated. This is just a short little chapter, but I did want to put something up, after such a long wait.

"Your friendly with dementors? How?" Riddle demanded to know.

Hadrian shifted, knowing that he couldn't lie here, at least outright. "I'm not sure exactly, I do have a theory though, that they just recognised that I wasn't a prisoner."

"Dementors don't distinguish between people. They feed from whomever they can."

Hadrian shrugged. "I don't really know why."

"You know more than what you are letting on."

"Yes."

Riddle seemed put off by this simple answer. Hadrian continued, "I have my secrets, and you have yours. I hardly think I know you well enough to start spilling everything to you."

Riddle frowned in annoyance. "Fine, then. I will find them out though, Peverell."

Hadrian smiled. "I've no doubt of that, Tom. Good night."

Tom frowned again as Harry closed the curtains around his bed. Did he want him to find out his secrets? Or had he heard rumours and falsely hoped to get around Tom by pretending to not have anything to tell other than what he said.

"Alright, settle down." It was Transfiguration. Ravenclaws, who weren't too bad, and Dumbledore. Tom didn't really think that it was possible for anyone to be more annoying than Dumbledore. He always understood, with a damn fucking twinkle in his eye. Dumbledore knows best, doesn't he?

Tom glanced over to Harry who had quietly sat next to him. Harry's arms were folded and he wasn't looking entirely happy at Dumbledore, either. Did he have an issue with him? He would have to ask later.

Harry hadn't had much to do with him in the past two weeks since term had begun. He was polite enough to his peers, but never was more than an acquaintance. That suited Tom just fine. He didn't really need some idiot poking his nose where it wasn't wanted and attempting to be friends.

Harry's arm was in the air. "Professor?"

"Yes, my boy?"

My boy. Honestly, Dumbledore called every damned Gryffindor that and most of the other houses as well. He must just be testing the waters with Harry.

"My boy? Professor, if your going to reveal truths about my actual parents, please save it for a private moment."

Tom almost laughed at that. As it was, a smile did pass his face.

Dumbledore faltered, "I didn't…What was the question?"

"You know Grindelwald?"

"Yes, but I hardly think that the middle of class is the time to discuss current politics."

"This is the beginning of the class, and I'm not discussing current politics. I merely wanted to know what you knew Grindelwald's opinions to be towards Ariana."

Tom had never seen Dumbledore shocked. He had frozen completely, eyes blinking into space. Something had struck him. Who was Ariana? Eventually, Dumbledore composed himself, told Harry to quit playing around and went back to teaching the class.

"So, who _is_ Ariana?"

Tom and Harry were in their dorm, and Tom was finally taking the opportunity to question Harry.

"Dumble's younger sister."

"He has a sister?"

"Yes. And a younger brother, Aberforth."

"I know. What importance does the girl have?"

"She's dead. A little squib who died imprisoned him her own home."

Tom turned the information over in his mind. If it were true, it could tear Dumbledore down.

"And Grindelwald."

"Oh, he and Dumbledore were very close friends."

"They were friends?"

"Yes, very, very close. Dumbledore was a great supporter, before he started twinkling of course."


End file.
